


Apologies

by greensweater



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Could Be Canon, Double Drabble, Drarry, Enemies to Friends, Ficlet, Gay, Getting to Know Each Other, Harry doesn't know, Harry in Denial, Light Angst, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Deathly Hallows, Reconciliation, dumbledore would be proud, scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7117318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greensweater/pseuds/greensweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter meet, trying to finally reconcile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Potter.”

 

“Malfoy.”

 

The two young men sat across from each other, postures stiff and chins high, avoiding eye contact. They had each reluctantly agreed to meet to dissolve their old school rivalry, which had, they admitted, gone too far. After the war, everyone just wanted to find peace. There had been enough prejudice and anger towards fellow wizards for several lifetimes.

 

Harry stole a glance at Malfoy, who was determinedly staring over his shoulder at the wall behind. They had met at the Manor at Draco’s insistence, and it was stirring up bad memories for Harry, memories of screaming and dark basements and Bellatrix’s mad laugh and Dobby… He shook those thoughts off. The war was over and all was well.

 

“So.” Harry broke the silence, his voice slightly unsteady. “How have you been?”

 

Ugh. It seemed so _wrong_ to act benevolent and polite around Malfoy, whom he’d hated with a passion for so many years. Draco, it seemed, felt just as uncomfortable as Harry, but he tried to cover it with a cordial nod.

 

“Rebuilding. Getting my life together after the shambles it was left in.” Malfoy’s tone was curt, but not completely unfriendly.

 

“So have I. Been cleaning up Hogwarts, you know.”

 

Malfoy nodded. “Your Muggle relatives—they’re alive?”

 

Harry was slightly taken aback that the proud, prejudiced Malfoy he knew would ask about _Muggles_ , of all things to ask about.

 

“Erm, yeah. They’re alive. I haven’t seen them since before the war, but… they’re alright.”

 

“That’s… good, I suppose.”

 

“And your parents?” Wanting to be polite, Harry felt inclined to ask, but the mere thought of the Malfoys called up images from darker days, Narcissa’s cold hand finding the pulse in his neck, Lucius Malfoy’s sneer through his mask in a misty graveyard…

 

Malfoy jerked his head in affirmation. “Yes. We’re… working through some things at the moment.”

 

Harry supposed it might be the case. Even though the Malfoy family had been clutching tightly to one another and crying the last time he’d seen them, there were surely major issues to confront. Harry thought his family was messed up… and then there was the Malfoy clan. 

 

“That’s positive. Positive growth. In the right direction.” Harry silently cursed his awkwardness, especially when he saw Malfoy watching him with what looked like a tinge of amusement.

 

“Yes.”

 

They sat in silence for a moment, silence that held a little less tension. 

 

“Why did you save me?” blurted Draco suddenly, then looked immediately embarrassed, trying to recover his smooth mask of nonchalance. Failing.

 

Harry had asked himself the same question, so many times, when he was lying in bed at night, going over the last battle, over and over and over until his body forced his brain to shut down. He didn’t know, really. 

 

It was a difficult question to answer. Harry relived it over in his mind, the roaring flames, the raw panic rushing through him, his only thought: _get everyone out. Alive. Nobody dies in here, not now. Not today._. There was no time for rational thought in there, in the midst of burning and choking and praying and hoping… 

 

Harry eventually formed a response. “I-I guess… I just didn’t want anyone else to die. I didn’t care who you were… I just had too many deaths on my hands. So many people died already in the war. I had to save everyone I could, every last person.”

 

It made sense.

 

Draco nodded slowly. “Thank you.” The words felt stiff and clumsy on his tongue, and he glanced at Potter, gauging his reaction. The other man looked uncomfortable, but in a humble, _oh, no problem, I only saved your life, my long-standing enemy, the boy who harassed and bullied me and had a hand in killing my mentor, oh, no problem at all_. He felt a strange sort of feeling prickling in his throat, and he swallowed it down before it became a problem.

 

“I’m sorry.” The words came out before he could prevent them and Draco sat back in his seat, mentally screaming, while Potter’s face went slack with shock and a weird hint of satisfaction.

 

Bloody… he’d ruined it all. The goal of this meeting was to get over their childish hatred and work towards establishing a more genial relationship with one another. Not to apologize for actions and words long in the past. Not to bring stupid sentiment into it at all. _Damn it all._

 

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. He was sure that _he_ would have to be the more mature person, would have to be the first to broach sensitive subjects, but here went Draco, _apologizing_.

 

He cleared his throat, shaking off the shock. “Oh, uh, you’re… welcome, I suppose,” he stammered. “Hold on, sorry for what?”

 

Oh, _blast_ it all. Draco took a deep breath, struggling to say what he wanted to say, the things that ran through his mind as he was trying to fall asleep, the things that Potter deserved to hear from him.

 

“I-have not been a good person for basically my whole life,” began Draco carefully, Potter watching him with nervous curiosity. “I have been a-a dick. And a slimy coward. And a prejudiced arse. I have been terrible and loathsome and rude… And I’m sorry.”

 

He stopped suddenly, furiously trying to stop the tears that had, for some reason, welled in his eyes.

 

“And I hope that you can forgive me.”

 

Harry’s breath hitched, hardly believing the words coming out of his sworn nemesis’s mouth, hardly believing the sight of actual tears spilling over in his bright gray eyes. Was Draco actually being sincere? Or was this a trick? God, Harry could overanalyze this for days, but decided to trust him. For the time being.

 

“I forgive you,” Harry said cautiously. “And I hope you’re able to forgive me. I was almost just as bad to you as you were to me.”

 

Was that a slight smile on Draco’s face? 

 

“I forgive you as well, Potter.”

 

The two men felt a great weight simultaneously lift off of their shoulders and looked at each other with some degree of understanding.

 

Draco felt something else, something swelling in his chest, a feeling he’d tried to suppress before, when he was a boy and flashing a smirk at Harry Potter’s pale face…

 

For Harry, it was new. And he was afraid. The weight slammed back down onto his heart.

 

“But I don’t forgive you for betraying us.”

 

Draco’s face fell. “Potter, I-”

 

“You betrayed us, you betrayed Dumbledore, you betrayed all that was good and true about Hogwarts, and most of all, you betrayed yourself.” 

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

Harry saw Draco’s eyes flash silver and felt a mixture of guilt and vindictive satisfaction. But it was too late to stop now, and he had to crush this _feeling_ , the one growing inside of his stomach. A myriad of emotions, swirling and churning and messing with his mind. Had Draco somehow drugged him? Because that was obviously the only explanation. 

 

“Potter, I tried to apologize. I’m trying to be better!”

 

“Well, bully for you. Your little journey of self-discovery will bring back everyone you had a hand in killing, will wipe that Dark Mark off your arm! Oh wait, it won’t. You can apologize for being a petty snot but you can NEVER apologize for being a Death Eater.”

 

“Stop. Talking.”

 

“No.”

 

“Potter, stop!” Malfoy yelled in frustration. “I’m trying to have a civilized conversation with you here—”

 

But Harry continued on, barely noticing how Draco’s face was gradually becoming more and more devastated.

 

“God, Malfoy, when will you learn? When will you see how self-destructive you tend to be?”

 

Draco clenched his jaw and stood up. “That crossed the line, Potter.”

 

“I don’t care!”

 

Draco strode around the table until his face was so close to Harry Potter’s that he could see the flecks of hazel in his bottle-green eyes. The other boy swallowed, unnerved by his closeness.

 

Silver to green, Slytherin to Gryffindor, ice to fire.

 

“Self-destructive, you say?” he quoted bitterly. “You have no idea.”

 

And he moved a fraction closer, just enough to press his lips onto Harry’s.


	2. Epilogue: Forged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry figure out their feelings.

The kiss was short, as Harry pulled back almost immediately. He swallowed, trying to keep a handle on his anger and… confusion. There were so many emotions boiling inside him that he couldn’t make sense of them all, couldn’t sort them out and label them like he usually did. 

 

Draco’s breath came quickly as he backed away, avoiding Harry’s eyes. He’d ruined it. Ruined everything. He could never look at Potter again, not without shame and embarrassment and that stupid muddle of feelings he could never quite get rid of.

 

Harry touched his lips, still buzzing from the sensation of Malfoy’s lips against his. Malfoy had _kissed_ him, something he was still trying to process. And it had come out of absolutely nowhere. Harry tried to find disgust, fury, revulsion in the mix of feelings, but couldn’t. It should be affecting him so differently than it was, but Harry was feeling all the wrong emotions. And… he hadn’t… _liked_ it… had he?

 

Draco passed his hand over his face, inwardly groaning at the utter mess he’d made of things. He supposed he’d better leave before Potter did something to make the situation more awkward, and turned to go.

 

“Wait.”

 

Draco wheeled back around. Potter looked even more shocked than he felt, and froze. Draco sighed, knowing that it was on him now to say something.

 

“I-I shouldn’t have done that,” he began. “I don’t know why I did, what came over me, but—”

 

“Don’t apologize,” blurted Harry, then clamped his mouth shut.

 

Draco raised an eyebrow, trying to cover up the confused hope that surfaced in him at the sound of the interruption.

 

“Oh? Why not, Potter?”

 

And why should he not apologize? Harry didn’t know why he’d said that. It had burst out of him like a swollen river through a dam and he was powerless to control it.

 

“I-because… I wanted to say… that I should not have gone off on you. You were trying to make things right and I fucked it up by yelling.”

 

Malfoy, the slimy bastard, cocked his head. “Why did you yell?”

 

“Because—Oh, _damn_ it all—I felt something. That I didn’t want to feel. And I lashed out at you, which you did not deserve and I am sorry.”

 

Potter was being remarkably mature and calm about the situation, observed Draco. And he was... blushing.

 

Indeed he was, a faint red flush creeping up Harry’s neck and making him rub at it with shaky fingers.

 

“Why did you kiss me, Malfoy?” asked Harry, broaching the subject Draco had been trying to steer clear of.

 

He supposed it couldn’t be avoided. 

 

“A whim. A temporary, fleeting whim that meant absolutely nothing. Don’t trouble yourself about it, Potter. You won’t have to worry about this sort of assault again, I promise.”

 

Is it possible that Potter looked the tiniest bit… disappointed? Draco must be delusional.

 

“Oh.”

 

He wasn’t delusional.

 

“Potter…”

 

Harry stepped a bit closer, unsure of why his feet suddenly decided to make decisions for him.

 

“Yes?” he asked, voice going husky.

 

Malfoy’s hand twitched the smallest bit and Harry was struck with the impulse to reach out and take it. God, where was this all coming from? Draco had definitely drugged him.

 

“Did you like it? The kiss?” Malfoy’s light grey eyes had darkened to a stormy charcoal, and Harry couldn’t help but notice how beautiful they were. _God_.

 

“Er…”

 

“Potter.”

 

“It wasn’t terrible,” he admitted, face going bright crimson, “A little short and dry, I suppose, but nothing too—”

 

Draco grabbed Harry’s face in his and kissed him for the second time, effectively shutting him up.

 

And Harry didn’t even care, responding by tangling his fingers in the other man’s white-blond hair.

 

They kissed for a few minutes, pulled apart and looked at each other.

 

Green and silver met.

 

Melded.

 

Forged.

 

And the Slytherin and the Gryffindor left the hall together, hand in hand.

 

Albus Dumbledore would have been proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, this is rushed and kind of bad actually. I'll go back and edit later. Just wanted to get the epilogue written before finals start--xx Shippingslut

**Author's Note:**

> I left the ending pretty open, so I could expand this and write more... tell me what you think down in the comments! Thanks for reading--xx Shippingslut


End file.
